seasons of eden
by WatsonGurl45
Summary: Emma is a runaway without a purpose, until she accidentally becomes the bearer of the Subtle Knife. With its help, she will reunite Will and Lyra and maybe find a little romance of her own...


PROLOGUE   
  
The music pounded in her ears. A deep bass line and lightning fast guitar riffs burst through her mind. As she came to the conclusion that the band onstage was amazing, she let go of herself and started jumping up and down, losing control over her body. A boy with a mohawk was jumping next to her as well. Here in the club, she was at home. Later on, when she would go back to her house, she would remember these few precious hours when she had freedom. She knew in her heart that she would pay for not telling her parents where she was going, but frankly she didn't give a shit. He could beat her and She could tear away her pride, but she knew she would still be strong. Belts and screams would not bring her down again.   
  
  
i will not let them hurt me...   
When Emma finally trudged home the next morning after sleeping at her friend's house, she knew what would happen. Opening the door to her house, she stumbled in to face her father's face, contorted with anger.  
"Where have you been, girl? And don't you lie to me, you bitch."  
She could smell the beer on his breath and looked at him with disgust. She lied through her teeth. "I had to help Yumi. Her mother was sick, and I didn't want to leave her alone in the house."   
"You're a filthy liar," he grabbed her hair and dragged her. "A filthy liar with a filthy body and a thumbtack in her lip. You...are...trash."  
He pulled out his belt and Emma slipped into a trance. The blows would sting her body, but she would not feel them.  
i am numb...  
  
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The next morning Emma awoke on the floor of the basement, with the sweet copper taste of her blood still lingering in her mouth. She looked at her hip and saw a huge bruise forming. Closing her eyes, she faught the pain. She faught it with everything she had.  
Her aching body pulled itself off the concrete floor and tripped into the kitchen. A woman sat at the table, taking slow drags of a cigarette and sipping coffee. With a distasteful glance, she put down the paper she was reading and gazed mockingly at her daughter.  
"Well, well, well. Looks like he got to you again. I told you he would," she sneered.   
It then occurred to Emma that she had no one in the world. Not a single being that could help her through this hell her life had become. And she would not give this bitch of a woman the satisfaction of seeing her tears. But if there was one thing Julie Spindral had taught her daughter, it was how to run away. And so Emma did.   
  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
She took only what she needed. Some food, some clothes and money, some deoderant and soap, and her book of sketchings. With all her needs crammed into a medium sized backpack, Emma left. She left the fights, the beatings, and the cruel laughter behind. All of it. She was afraid, more afraid than she had ever been, but she was free. And that was all she needed to know. She was an 18 year old girl on her own, with nothing but a lip stud and a back pack to her name. And it was glorious.   
But after a few days, her provisions began to weaken. She was truly homeless now. With matted dyed-black hair and dirty clothes, she was a disheveled sight. But she could ignore the cold stares she recieved. She was practiced in the art of being numb.   
If you would ask Emma now, she would not remember the time she spent like this. But upon guessing, she would say around a couple of weeks. On maybe the fourth week, she was close to giving up. And in a broken moment of madness, she began sobbing wildly. She could do nothing but run, for it was all she knew. A couple of horrible men saw this, and started picking on her.   
A moment before, they had stood around a newly tilled piece of ground, where something mysterious lay. But they ignored it when they heard Emma wail.  
One of the two men grabbed the wretching girl around the waist and started to whisper into her ear, while the other began to lift up her shirt. Caught in the moment, and utterly -- no, disgustingly -- reminded of her father, she kicked. And she kicked with purpose. For if there was one thing her father had taught her, it was how to fight. After the two men lay bruised and unconcious on the pavement, Emma started to run again.   
It was then that she stepped on a broken shard of that something mysterious and cleanly cut off the two smallest toes on her right foot.   
:::::This is just the prologue. Will and Lyra will show up later...::::: 


End file.
